“It’s no use talking!” Mellicent cried in scorn. “She thinks he is perfect, and that we are all too stupid and ignorant to appreciate him. It’s the way all girls go on when they get engaged, and the only thing to do is to keep quiet, and let them find out their mistake. They are mad, poor dears, and don’t know what they are doing. Let us talk about the wedding; that will be more interesting. I have simply ached to have a wedding in the family, and felt quite low because I thought mine would be the first, and I should be cheated out of the fun of being a bridesmaid and having all the fuss and excitement.”
“I am afraid you will have very little of that, Mill, as it is, for it will be very, very quiet. I should hate a fashionable wedding, and feel that it took away half the solemnity of the service to have one’s thoughts taken up with dress and furbelows. Edward wants to be married very soon, in two months, if possible, for he says he has waited long enough for a home, and there is no reason for delay. We are quite sure of our own minds, and there will be no difficulty in finding another governess for the little boys; so, mother dear, we must try to be ready for a very quiet wedding by that time. I shall not need an elaborate trousseau, you know; just a few plain, useful dresses.”
Mellicent groaned, and threw up her hands in despair.
“Oh dear, what a thing it is to be sensible! Just listen to her, Peggy, with her ‘few useful dresses.’ I must say it’s very hard on me, to have a sister who never takes my feelings into account. What is the good of having a wedding at all, if it isn’t properly done with a choral service and bridesmaids and pretty frocks? I don’t think you could be so selfish, Esther, as to say I shall not be bridesmaid. I’d break my heart if you did. Just Peggy and me, and one or two of his relatives, and Rosalind Darcy, and the little boys as pages to hold up your train. They would look sweet as pages, and every one has them now.—It’s quite the proper thing.”
But Esther laughed derisively at the very idea.
“Pages indeed! Trains indeed! I sha’n’t have any train to carry. My own idea is to be married in my travelling-dress at eight o’clock in the morning, and drive straight to the station; but we must talk it over with Edward and see what he says. You can call yourself a bridesmaid, Mill, if you like to stand beside me, and Peggy will be there, of course, but she will understand that it is no lack of love which makes me ask her as a guest only. If there were going to be bridesmaids outside the family, she would be the first to be asked.”
Peggy made a bow of gracious acknowledgment.
“And I am not so sure that there won’t be even yet. Men, I have observed, are extremely prosaic about other people’s weddings and sentimental about their own. The professor may object to the travelling-dress, and want to see you in the orthodox white, in which case Mellicent will have her desire, for, of course, you will give in to him in that, as in every other instance. I hope he does, for I must confess I like to see a bride in white.”
“And so do I,” agreed the bride’s mother. “I think it’s a sin for a girl to be married in anything else when she is young, and the dress has to be bought in any case for wearing afterwards. You know, Esther dear, you will be asked out a great deal in Oxford, and you must have a good trousseau. No one can call me extravagant, but I am determined not to let you leave home without seeing that you are well supplied, and have everything that you need.”
Mellicent’s eyes brightened with expectation.